


Scars

by merycula (thanksillpass)



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Disabled Character, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-27
Updated: 2014-01-27
Packaged: 2018-01-10 07:30:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1156815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thanksillpass/pseuds/merycula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High school was full of idiots. The thing about being mute was that most people assumed you were also deaf. And when they thought you were deaf they also assumed that it was enough for them to speak really loudly and slowly in order for you to hear them. Idiots, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [icarusforgotten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/icarusforgotten/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Шрамы](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8649475) by [imagine_it](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagine_it/pseuds/imagine_it)



High school was full of idiots. The thing about being mute was that most people assumed you were also deaf. And when they thought you were deaf they also assumed that it was enough for them to speak really loudly and slowly in order for you to hear them. Idiots, right?

Peter could hear just fine, considering the amount of close-distance yelling he had to endure daily. He would have thought that ever-present earphones would be a dead giveaway of his unimpaired hearing, but no. Most people in his school treated him like a deaf-mute retard.

Not that he wasn’t used to it. As completely infuriating as it was, he’d grown immune. Or, you know, as immune as you can get to hearing sniggers and insults people assumed you  _couldn’t_  hear as you passed them by. Hence the earphones.

Which were currently ripped out of his ears and replaced by a warm fan of breath and a gravelly voice. “I love the way your ass looks in those pants.”

Peter closed his eyes and smiled, letting himself fall back against a solid chest. Wade. Peter’s sort of boyfriend. Sort of being the key phrase, because they never did any boyfriend stuff like have sex or kiss or even go on dates. They just hang out with Peter’s aunt and touched a lot – hugged and cuddled and just… touched. You know… normally. Not really boyfriendly but Wade had insisted on calling himself that.

“I’m a boy, I’m a friend, what more do you want?” Well, maybe an occasional blowjob for starters? “Plus, it keeps crazy stalkers off your back. We’re saving you for marriage and you’re too impressionable to defend your honor by yourself. You trust too easily. And we both know all too well no one would hear you scream. Get it? Cause-”

Wade’s hands on his shoulders, kneading firmly but gently, brought Peter back to the present and shattered the memory of Wade’s face getting personally acquainted with Peter’s physics book. Ugh, back rubs; he could stay a virgin for the rest of his life for those. In moments like that he was grateful for not being able to speak lest those words would slip out of his mouth and Wade would take them seriously.

Peter really had no idea why the never… did anything but no matter how frustrated he might have been he never denied Wade his space. He had hope and an unprecedented with a teenage boy patience. Plus, the back rubs and an unlimited access to cuddles. He even got an occasional ass-squeeze if he was lucky. Being Wade’s sort of boyfriend wasn’t at all that bad.

He opened his locker to fish out his phone when he caught a glimpse of Wade scowling with dismay at his own reflection in the small mirror in the door and pulling his hood further down his forehead. Right. Wade wasn’t exactly what you would call a conventional beauty. Or any beauty at all, for that matter. His entire skin was marred with ugly and painful-looking scars which had most people gag and shout obscenities at worst, startle and gape unashamedly at best.

Peter didn’t see what the big deal was to be honest. Really, he had a more violent reaction to some of his morning zits than to Wade the first time he’d seen him. He suspected the fact that his aunt, who was a nurse and had been often forced to bring Peter to the hospital with her after his uncle had passed away, had a lot to do with his tolerance for all kinds of non-standard appearance. He’d seen it all, from accidents to cancer, and she had made sure he would never see those people as different or worse. After all, he was scarred too, in a way.

He turned around and grabbed Wade’s face with both his hands, squishing it and molding it in weird and ridiculous shapes, scrunching up his nose all the while to convey just how much he didn’t appreciate Wade’s sulking.

“Oh, don’t even start with me. Just because you’re blind doesn’t mean I am.”

Peter flicked Wade’s forehead and grinned when he grabbed his finger in retaliation. He sface immediately fell when Wade put it into his mouth, covering it with spit, and started guiding it to Peter’s ear. God, he was so fucking gross! Peter tried to break free, but Wade was a really strong guy, which normally turned Peter on, but at that moment made him want to weep desperately.

Ah, saved by the bell! Literally. Wade grunted in defeat and settled at wiping the finger on Peter’s sleeve as he leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on his lips before leaving Peter shocked speechless ( _heh_ ) in the middle of the corridor. That was… their first kiss and for the rest of Peter’s life it would remind him of wet willies! God, this was… so Wade, it was actually incredibly romantic in some sort of weird and twisted way. It certainly seemed romantic to feel his lips tingle for the rest of the class.

* * *

  _“You kissed me_ ,” the text read.

Wade’s eyes widened as he realized that he actually really fucking did. What the fuck.

_“Shit, I did. Sorry.”_

_“What are you talking about? The only thing you should be sorry for is running with a gigantic tail between your legs right after.”_

Wade smirked to himself and looked around the classroom to make sure he could keep texting in peace.

_“Interesting choice of metaphor. Is this your idea of sexting?”_

_“Please, my sexting prowess would have you come in twenty seconds flat, and you pay too little attention to French classes as it is.”_

_“Sounds like you had a lot of practice sexting. That’s why Flash Thompson is walking funny today? Also, I don’t need to pay attention to French, I’m Canadian.”_

_“No, that’s because you kicked his ass during P.E. yesterday. Also ew.”_

Of course he kicked his ass. He had been kicking Flash’s ass every chance he got ever since- He would never forget, nor forgive, the time when Thompson had beaten Peter up so badly that he showed up on Wade’s doorstep crying and covered in blood, face bruised and swollen, left arm nearly broken. Of course he kicked his ass every chance he got. To bring Peter to a state where he couldn’t even begin to imagine showing himself to May, to be unable to fall asleep all night, shaking in Wade’s arms with silent cries. He should kill him. He almost would have the day after but for Peter dragging him away. Peter wasn’t anywhere near as strong as him, and Wade put up quite a fight too, but Peter still managed to drag him away from the bloody pulp lying on the ground that was Flash Thompson. He still remembers picking his own skin from under Peter’s fingernails and smirking to himself. He almost killed someone. But Peter stopped him. It had to count for something.

 _“And don’t talk to me about French until you learn a difference between frottage and fromage_ _.”_

“ _You just can’t let certain things go, can you?”_

_“Nope. So, how was it?”_

Wade frowned and searched his memory for anything that Peter could have been referring to but he had nothing.

_“How was what?”_

_“THE KISS, YOU ASSWAD.”_

Oh. Right. The kiss. Wade had this thing where his head wasn’t working properly most of the time, which was kind of obvious by how he completely missed the fact that he  _kissed the person he was completely and madly in love with for the first time ever._ He should just dig himself a nice hole and stay in it for the rest of his miserable days. Then he would have all the time in the world to remember the taste of Peter’s lips on his, the sound of Peter’s breath hitching in surprise, the feeling of Peter immediately melting against him. Peter, Peter, Peter… perfect Peter with perfect lips and eyes and face and perfect everything…

_“You can lie if it was that bad, I won’t be able to tell.”_

Wade snorted because of course Peter would think there was something wrong with the kiss. There was never anything wrong with anything Peter ever did, he was perfect for fuck’s sake, really.

_“Sorry, I was just thinking about it. At length.”_

_“And is this YOUR idea of sexting?”_

He imagined Peter grinning goofily and trying to hide the blush on his cheeks. It made Wade want to kiss him again. Everything about Peter made Wade want to… everything. Peter made him want to everything. But Wade was as much a hard-boiled realist as he was a hopeless romantic, so he would never ever act on his desires. To Peter, Wade was someone to hold on to, to take comfort in, to feel less alone with while he was getting through the hell known as high school, and Wade wouldn’t take anything more from him just because he wanted. If he would indulge himself, he wouldn’t be able to stop, ever, he would take everything and he would keep taking. And Peter deserved better, that was more than obvious. He wanted for this ‘better’ to come when Wade was long gone and be everything Peter ever wanted and deserved. He wouldn’t get in the way.

_“I would like you to do it again. All the time preferably. It was very nice… Do you want to?”_

God, did he want to… He rubbed his forehead and kept staring that the phone helplessly until the bell rang. Shit.

* * *

While he was waiting for Wade by the gate, Peter couldn’t help but let his eyes wander around the school grounds. They were full of memories, good ones and bad, and it only made Peter realize he would be a senior next semester, which really depressed him for some reason. His eyes landed on a pair of freshmen, probably, talking awkwardly by the tree. He smiled when he realized that was the exact same spot Wade had talked to him for the first time…

They had been exchanging skittish glances and curt nods ever since Wade help Peter get away from Flash the first day of school, but they had never talked. Peter might have blushed one or seventeen times when Wade grinned at him from the distance or gave him thumbs up while pointing at his ass. So when he saw Wade approaching nervously he couldn’t help but feel excited. He always liked the feeling of anticipation, and he was really curious what pick up line Wade would serve him if, of course, Peter hadn’t have read the whole thing wrong. He smiled encouragingly while Wade shuffled awkwardly on his feet.

“Do you wanna know how I got these scars?”

Peter snorted so hard he was pretty sure the soda he was drinking shot out of his nose. He couldn’t remember laughing so hard ever before, or after that, and he might have fallen in love right there and then. When he finally looked up at Wade and wiped the tears from his eyes, he saw Wade’s adorable pout and almost melted on the spot.

“It was either that or the line from  _Gladiator_.”

Peter grinned and lifted his thumbs. He tried not to be angry for not being able to say anything, bitterness about that never got him anywhere anyway. Wade simply must have known Peter was mute – it had been months since school had started and the power of gossip was limitless – and he was there with him regardless. Peter reached for his notebook and pencil and jotted down his answer.

“Very good choice. Consider me wooed.”

Wade grunted in response, angling his head away as if it would in any way hide the blush on his cheeks from Peter. Peter had to bit on the inside of his cheek to ground himself and not do anything stupid like maybe throw his arms around Wade’s neck and kiss this pout right off his lips.

“Look, I was just trying to make friends. I don’t have any, and neither do you, so-”

Peter’s eyes widened in silent terror. He grabbed his notebook from Wade’s hands and started scribbling an apology but his hands were shaking so much he broke the pencil. Feeling the tears of frustration and shame welling up in his eyes, he gave up entirely, gathered his belongings into a messy heap and fled. Shit, shit, shit, how could he have been so fucking stupid! Fuck. He could hear Wade calling after him, but he never slowed down.

Still, he was a scrawny asthmatic nerd so tripping over his own feet shouldn’t have surprised him as much as it did. Wade helped him get up and growled at the group of giggling girls until they ran away screaming. Peter wanted to die, seriously.

“You didn’t let me finish,” said Wade in accusatory manner. “I didn’t say I wasn’t a bit gay for you, alright? What I didn’t know was that you were gay for me! You surprised me, I wasn’t prepared! For one, have you seen me? Secondly, gayness is not something to be trifled with. Some are born gay, some achieve gayness, and some have gayness thrust upon th-”

Peter couldn’t hold back a snort. If Peter wasn’t so completely mortified he would joke that Wade was clearly doing his best to reference his way straight into Peter’s pants. As he looked at Wade again, he hoped he didn’t look nearly as pathetic as he felt.

“See, your face is all puffy and dirty and your nose is dripping and I think you might be bleeding from your head?”

Oh, so he looked  _exactly_  as pathetic as he felt. He could feel his chin tremble and he was ready to turn around and leave again, this time for good – change schools maybe, just never see Wade again – but a gentle hand on his elbow stopped him.

“What is it with you and not letting me finish? Dammit, how can you not talk and still be so rude? It offends my delicate Canadian sensibilities. What I wanted to say is, uh… You could use some soap and probably antiseptic but- the point is, I still think you look hot so-”

Peter stared at the boy before him with wide eyes, and when Wade blushed again under the scrutiny, Peter’s face split in a relieved grin and…

…an empty can hitting Peter’s head snapped him out of his daze. He turned around to see Flash and his buddies almost rolling around laughing.

“Hey, Parker, is it true you lost your voice from all the cock-sucking?”

Peter rolled his eyes and put on his earphones, turning his back on his bullies. He was about to turn on the music to drown out their self-congratulating howls, when he heard Wade.

“No, but is it true that the captain has to keep sucking all his team’s dicks to make sure they stay brainless enough to play football?”

Peter grinned to himself but he didn’t have time to even turn around before Wade grabbed his hand and told him to run, laughing wildly like a child while Flash and his friends chased after them.

* * *

Wade was dosing off, one hand tangled in Peter’s hair and the other absentmindedly playing with the zipper of his hoodie as they were lying on the touch wrapped in each other. Peter was already fast asleep but Wade could still distantly hear May humming happily in the kitchen as she cleaned up after dinner. He wanted to get up and help, he really did, but he was so full and warm and sleepy. Peter let out a soft whimper in his sleep and tightened his hold around Wade.

“He’s like a baby, isn’t he?”

Wade startled minutely when he heard May’s soft voice. She smiled warmly at him, passing him a mug full of hot tea. Wade whined gratefully and reached for the mug, careful not to wake Peter.

“I’d marry you if I wasn’t so ugly. And you know, dating your nephew. Despite my notorious reputation, I’m not really that much of a player. I mean I did score this fine piece of mea-  _man_ , fine man indeed, our Peter – but that’s only because I sold my beauty to the devil.”

May chuckled almost flirtatiously and swatted Wade’s shoulder playfully before sitting down on the armchair. She hummed and stayed silent for a while and then she chuckled again, more to herself than to Wade. Still, he had to ask.

“Nothing, I simply had a wonderfully romantic thought just now.”

“What was it?”

Wade was genuinely curious, which probably showed in his voice, judging by May’s sweet smile. He loved May almost as much as he loved tacos, which placed right below Peter, and he could talk to her for hours without ever getting bored.

“That Peter must have sold his voice to get  _you_ …”

Wade blinked and swallowed around the gulp that formed in his throat upon hearing May’s words. He had to close his eyes not to look at the gentle smile on her sweet angelic face or else he would cry. Oh, hell, he was going to cry anyway. He bit his lip to hold it off at least long enough for May to finish drinking and go to bed but he could already feel tears in the corners of his eyes. To a person like Wade, such kindness was deadly; the more he received the less worthy he felt. He put down the mug, which started to wobble dangerously in his shaking hand, and cleared his throat.

“Mrs. Parker, you’re trying to seduce me.”

To Wade, May’s laughter always sounded like fairies singing, and the one she let out in that moment was no different, perhaps even more wonderful.

“Seduce you? Dear boy, I thought there’s no need! I only have to snap my bony wrinkled fingers and you’d be mine, isn’t that what you always say?”

Wade barked out a laugh and nodded, grinning with his eyes still wired shut, keeping the tears at bay. He opened them when he felt a warm hand on his cheek. May’s smile was so adoring Wade couldn’t stand looking at it almost as much as he couldn’t keep his eyes off it.

“But Peter saw you first,” she said with a wink. “And I’ll be long dead before this boy stops loving you. Good night, darling.”

He waited for the sound of May’s door closing before he whimpered and let out a broken sob. He slumped forward, his head down, crying his heart out through gritted teeth. He felt like he could go on forever, like there was no limit to the emotions that were pouring out of him. He was so selfish. He was a person most undeserving of affection – May’s, Peter’s or anyone’s – and yet he couldn’t let go of it. He craved it like air, he needed it to fill up his lungs, his veins, his entire being; he wanted to bathe in it, absorb it, and finally have enough to give back, give as much as  _they_  deserved.

A hand crept up on his cheek and Wade’s breath stopped. He sniffled and opened his eyes, only to see Peter staring up at him with unreadable expression. Peter’s face was wet – with Wade’s tears, or his own, Wade couldn’t tell – as his hand was stroking his cheekbone soothingly while Wade’s breathing evened out. Then Peter leaned up to kiss him, and Wade couldn’t do anything but to fall into it and take, take, take.

He was so selfish.

* * *

 The kiss was desperate and painful, somehow, but mostly salty. Peter could taste their mingled tears on his lips and tongue as Wade’s shaking hands gripped and pulled at his clothes. Peter didn’t mind the urgency nor did he wish for something else; he didn’t care about the reasons for those frantic touches, he just wanted them. He wanted Wade – ugly, broken, crying. He was Peter’s to mend and it was all that mattered.

What Peter never told Wade was that he had been writing letters to him. Honest-to-God, paper-and-pencil letters. He wrote all kinds of stuff in them. He knew May filled more than enough blanks for Wade, but there were still things only for Peter to say – things he couldn’t  _say_. So he wrote them down, without any real intention of ever showing them to Wade, every single day. There was always something to say when you couldn’t speak.

Peter wrote how happy Wade made him, how truly grateful he was to had met him. He wrote how afraid he had been when Wade completely lost it that day. But he also wrote how safe he felt in his arms the night before. He wrote how much it hurt to never be able to say Wade’s name out loud. How worried he was Wade would never know how much he meant to Peter because he couldn’t hear it. He wrote about his embarrassing fantasies and big dreams. That Wade was always in them, with him, always. He wrote about how it felt to touch him, smell him, and hear him. What he felt when he looked at him. Peter couldn’t count the times he said ‘I love you’ in those letters, nor the times he said ‘I wish you could hear me say it’.

Peter’s eyes were open the entire time. He couldn’t afford to close them even as Wade rocked his hips on his – they were his voice. Every shout he wanted to give to Wade, every breathy confession, every gasp of his name was in them. And Peter would keep them fixed on Wade, so he would  _know_. He needed Wade to know.

For someone who usually made Peter regret he wasn’t deaf too with his constant chatter, Wade was so ridiculously silent during sex. Nothing but pained grunts when their hips met, soft hisses when Peter’s nailed raked along his shoulders and back, breathless gasps when Peter kissed the skin closes to his mouth at a given moment. Dry humping might have not been the most romantic first time, which Peter knew Wade would beat himself over for eons, but it was perfect for Peter nonetheless. He kept his eyes open when he came silently, even though it cost him every last bit of his will. He wanted Wade to know it was perfect.

Wade came with a whine that made Peter huff out a breathless laugh. What a fucking dork. He stroked the back of Wade’s neck while he panted hotly on Peter’s collarbone, sending shivers down his sensitive skin. Wade lifted his head to look at Peter and opened his mouth to say something but Peter promptly closed it with his lips. He wasn’t going to let Wade ruin the afterglow, not yet. But Wade didn’t seem to particularly mind Peter’s attempt at shutting him up. He seemed to quite enjoy kissing Peter, if he could say so himself.

When Wade pulled away, Peter feared for a moment he would speak, but he only moved his lips to Peter’s throat, kissing it almost reverently, making Peter lose his breath. He could feel Wade’s hot lips and tongue moving against the skin of his throat and for some reason it seemed to Peter that Wade was kissing his invisible scars, just like Peter was kissing the ones on Wade’s skin earlier. It made him feel weird and tingly, so he grabbed Wade’s head and searched his face for the answer to his silent question. Wade’s hand reached out to his forehead to smooth out the confused crease and he leaned in for a kiss. He pulled off entirely too early to Peter’s liking and brushed his thumb across Peter’s throat.

“It’s not licking each other’s wounds, right?” he whispered. “For me it’s- They make you who you are so I love them. It’s… it’s the same for you, right?”

There was as much hope as there was uncertainty in Wade’s tone, and Peter couldn’t care less if his head was dislocated from his neck, he was going to nod vehemently enough to make Wade laugh. He pulled him even closer, impossibly close almost, wrapping his arms around Wade’s shoulders and alternating between frantically kissing the side of his neck and nodding into it until Wade finally giggled.

“Stop it!”

Peter only replaced nodding with shaking his head, relishing in the sound of Wade’s muffled laughter. He jolted suddenly when Wade grabbed his sides and pinched. He smacked him across the back on instinct and it made Wade laugh even more. They looked at each other for a moment, and Peter forced himself to smile, even though he was suddenly overcome with the urge to cry. He wanted to be able to say he loved him. Now more than ever. He just wanted to be able to say it, just  _once_.

“Shh, shh, baby boy, shh,” Wade cooed between kisses. “I know, I know, I promise, I know.”

Peter shut his eyes and sealed his lips to Wade’s, nodding one more time.


End file.
